


Movie Night

by Euroshrimp



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euroshrimp/pseuds/Euroshrimp
Summary: It's movie night at Monmouth.  Fortuitous seating arrangements cause Adam to come to terms with some things.  Slow burn





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanzanite927](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanzanite927/gifts).



> My assumption is that Monmouth wouldn't be rigged for Netflix or OnDemand, hence the DVD player. Also, I realize the furniture involved is not canon, but it was kind of important, so just go with me on this one.
> 
> Beware the slow-burn...

It’s movie night at Monmouth. Gansey has decided that they all need to be educated on the finer points of Monty Python and has chosen, for their viewing pleasure, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, because, well, he’s Gansey and there’s a king involved. Blue has somehow convinced everyone to come in pajamas and, incredibly, perhaps due to the fact that it’s a chilly autumn evening, they’d all agreed.

They are waiting for Henry to arrive, and everyone is occupied with various tasks. As the only person with any real-life acumen for mechanical things, it’s been left to Adam to hook up the new DVD player even though he’s never owned one himself. Blue and Gansey are in the kitchen popping popcorn and organizing refreshments, while Noah gleefully rounds up every blanket and pillow he can find, strewing them around and transforming the common area into an oasis of cable knit and cotton.

Ronan, on the other hand, is leaning on the edge of Gansey’s bed where they’ve pulled it closer to the TV and is watching Adam work. He somehow manages to make leaning look like an art form, casually inclined in nothing but an expensive pair of plaid pajama pants, a paragon of uselessness and allure. Adam is annoyed.

“You know, you could help,” says Adam, untangling cords and sifting through directions in eight languages.

“Naw, I think it looks like you’ve got this covered, Parrish,” Ronan replies, giving Adam an unhelpful wink. Adam rolls his eyes.

Trying to ignore the punch of desire in his gut as he turns his attention back to the DVD player, Adam attempts to refocus, the weight of Ronan’s gaze heavy on his back and making it difficult to concentrate. 

“By the way, do you _have_ to strut around without a shirt on? It’s October, it’s raining, and it’s not an Abercrombie photo shoot, you know,” says Adam from somewhere behind the TV now, attempting to fill his voice with as much rancor as he can.

“I wasn’t aware that I was strutting, but I can stop if it’s distracting you,” says Ronan, his tone laced with playful derision. Adam shoots out from behind the TV looking aggravated and comes face to face with a smirking Ronan whose now-crossed arms are accentuating his defined chest and biceps, made powerful by years of fighting. Adam visibly swallows. Ronan waggles his eyebrows.

“It’s not distracting. It’s…you’re just…ugh,” Adam huffs again, disappearing behind the TV to hide his reddening ears.

“Yeah,” replies Ronan, voice dripping in sarcasm, “you don’t sound distracted at all.”

“Idiot,” says Adam, more to himself than to Ronan. He chooses not to say anything else, knowing there’s nothing that won’t sound like he’s confirming Ronan’s accusation. But thankfully, the exchange is abruptly brought to an end by a knock at the door.

“That’ll be Henry,” says Noah, tossing the last few throws over the back of the couch, “I’ll get it!”

As Adam finishes hooking up the DVD player and is cleaning up the mess of packaging, Blue and Gansey exit the kitchen, arms full of bowls of popcorn and mugs of hot chocolate. At this same moment, Henry and Noah reach the living room, and before Adam knows what’s happening, an invisible cue sends everyone scattering to grab seats. Blue and Gansey claim Gansey’s bed, stretching out shoulder to shoulder with a bowl of popcorn between them, Henry spreads out on the recliner, and Noah and Ronan claim the couch. 

They are all looking at Adam like he’s the kid who’s just lost at Musical Chairs.

“Damn it,” Adam murmurs to himself. Having never had siblings, or a house full of people who spent time together, the idea of having to snatch a seat was not in his wheelhouse.

Ronan has taken the spot against the left arm of the couch. He’s flopped carelessly into the corner, draping his right arm over the low back, his legs extended luxuriously out to the side, taking up at least two thirds of the cushions. The only other option is to try to find a comfortable spot on the floor, and Adam refuses to do that.

“Hey,” he says to Ronan irritably, “you can’t take up two spots; it’s not fair.”

Ronan simply raises his eyebrows in an exaggerated display of nonchalance, “Well, Parrish, life isn’t fair, but you’re welcome to sit in the middle,” he grins sharply and lifts his legs like a drawbridge, his stomach muscles tightening in an inadvertently provocative way.

Adam decides to call his bluff and crosses the moat of hardwood between the TV and the couch to sit between Ronan and Noah, at which point Ronan promptly drops his legs into Adam’s lap. Not a bluff, apparently.

“Oomph,” chokes Adam, “ You can’t be serious,” he looks imploringly at Ronan, hands up as though he’s being held at gunpoint.

“Take it or leave it, Parrish,” Ronan replies, reaching down to grab the nearest bowl of popcorn.

“Damn it,” Adam mutters again, not sure what to do with his hands, eventually choosing to cross his arms over his stomach, touching as little of Ronan as possible.

“Well,” says Gansey, fingering the remote, “now that _that’s_ settled, shall we begin?”

“As long as his _highness_ is comfortable,” Blue snarks, giving Ronan the evil eye.

“Yes. _Quite_ comfortable, actually,” says Ronan through a mouthful of popcorn, “carry on, bitches,” he adds in his most regal tone.

Adam rolls his eyes, squeezing his arms tighter over his stomach, supremely annoyed. Then again, maybe not _just_ annoyed, but Adam doesn’t want to look too closely at what that other feeling might be. It’s been popping up more and more often, particularly when Ronan is around, but Adam pushes it aside, shaking his head to clear away the confusing cobwebs of emotion.

As the movie begins, Noah jumps up, “Wait! Atmosphere!” he calls, drifting around the room to turn off lights, and tossing blankets to everyone.

Adam has a large grey comforter thrown in his lap, and he uses the fluffy bulk to create an armrest on top of Ronan’s legs, allowing himself to unfold his arms without making things too uncomfortable. Ronan is having none of this.

“Don’t be fucking stingy, Parrish,” he snaps at Adam, snatching at the blanket.

“Wait, _I’m_ the inconsiderate one?” asks Adam, his tone astonished, eyes going meaningfully to where Ronan’s legs are trapping him. Ronan just shrugs and ignores him, unfurling the comforter with a flourish over his, and therefore Adam’s, body. Great.

Adam allows himself a moment to acknowledge the ridiculous circumstances he now finds himself in. He’s sitting in the dark, under a blanket, with Ronan Lynch’s legs draped over his lap. 

“Damn it,” Adam mutters to himself for the third time that evening.

For his part, Ronan seems absurdly oblivious while also remaining supremely pleased with himself.

From the TV Adam can hear the words, “Where’d you get the coconuts?” but he can hardly focus; the weight and warmth of Ronan’s legs are hard to ignore. Then there’s the issue of his arms. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, if Ronan’s going to drape himself wherever he pleases, why shouldn’t Adam do the same? So Adam relaxes his arms on top of the comforter, and sneaks a sideways look at Ronan whose mouth quirks up into a private smile. Adam can’t be _sure_ the smile isn’t related to the movie, but his stomach does a complicated flip flopping thing that makes him shift in his seat a bit.

At Adam’s movement, Ronan readjusts his legs, and Adam can’t help but notice that when Ronan settles, they’ve moved up a bit…closer to his pajama-clad package. 

_Damn it._

Adam sneaks another sidelong glance at Ronan who, if anyone else were to look at him, appears to be greatly enjoying the film at this point, but Adam catches the quick flick of his eyes in Adam’s direction and the corresponding elongation of his wicked grin. 

This mother fucker. 

Adam realizes then that Ronan has decided to make “distracting Adam” his own private entertainment for the evening. Well, two can play at that game.

“God, is anyone else cold?” Adam asks the room, using the question as a thinly veiled excuse to casually lift the blanket up to his chin, sneaking his arms underneath and directly on top of Ronan’s legs. His hands are no longer in tight clenched balls but are open and soft, one palm resting below Ronan’s knees, and the other just above. 

He allows himself to turn his head fully toward Ronan, his face an open book; _the game is afoot_. Ronan smiles wickedly back at him and gives him an almost imperceptible nod. _Indeed_.

As Adam turns back towards the television, his stomach does another complicated flip-flop, but this time it’s accompanied by something new…dread. This is _Ronan_ he’s playing with; Ronan who doesn’t acknowledge limits, Ronan who has never lost a game of chicken, and Ronan who Adam knows has been looking at him for months in a way that makes him strangely weak in the knees. _Damn it_.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronan definitely has the advantage in this situation, what with the complete disregard for reasonable limits going for him, but the best defense is a good offense, Adam thinks to himself. Or is it the other way around? Whatever. He just has to get the upper hand, which in this case is quite literally his next move.

Adam casually snakes his left arm out from under the blanket and brings his hand to the back of his neck to scratch an imaginary itch, and when he moves his arm back under the comforter, he carefully places his hand further up Ronan’s leg than it had been. _Pawn to D4_ , Adam thinks. Always a solid first move in a chess match.

Ronan clears his throat.

Adam silently adds an imaginary point under his own name and smiles to himself. He realizes he’s mixing game metaphors, but he couldn’t care less, especially because he’s pretty sure he’s winning at the moment.

Adam can’t help noticing, however, that there is also a subtle blossoming of heat in his low belly. He’s trying to beat Ronan at his own game, but it’s doing funny things to Adam’s insides. Where his palms are touching Ronan’s tartan covered legs there’s a kind of static electricity building up and he has to make a conscious effort to keep his hands still. The subtle shifting of muscle and bone under his fingers feels like an invitation to squeeze, but Adam’s not sure he’s ready to up the ante just yet. This is still just a game, right? 

Then multiple things happen at once. As a cow is catapulted over a castle wall on the television, Ronan picks up his right leg and braces his foot on Adam’s lap, his heel resting on Adam’s inner thigh. This movement causes Adam’s left hand to slide involuntarily down Ronan’s now-bent leg, eventually coming to rest at the juncture of Ronan’s leg and his pelvis. _Well played, sir_ , thinks Adam, and then he begins to sweat.

Ok, so this round goes to Ronan; _advantage, Lynch_ , Adam muses, but Adam is essentially frozen. The pressure of Ronan’s foot is precariously close to Adam’s dick. He’s not getting hard, but he can feel a heaviness in his lap that is a warning. 

Where Adam’s left hand is settled, he can distinctly feel the crease that, if followed, would lead him directly to Ronan’s groin. His fingers twitch; instinct is urging him to move, but uncertainty is staying his hand. He compromises between the two warring drives and allows himself to draw his fingers towards his palm, lightly scratching against Ronan’s body, and then extending them again. This movement draws a sharp inhale from Ronan, but Adam doesn’t feel like snickering anymore; the heat in his lap is spreading.

Adam risks a look at Ronan and he can see the same brand of earnestness on the other boy’s features. The game is done and has been replaced by something new; something that feels _thick_ somehow, and much more important.

As Adam turns his attention back to the TV, mulling over the assorted jumble of emotions in his chest, he feels a soft caress along his left pinkie. He turns his head to where he knows his hand is covered by the comforter, still resting on Ronan’s body, and sees that Ronan has slipped his arm under the blanket as well. It’s Ronan’s finger, just one, that is tentatively touching Adam. 

Adam doesn’t lift his gaze to Ronan’s face. He can’t. He keeps his eyes trained on the square of cloth covering their hands, letting this most intimate of sensations thrill through his bones. Adam lifts his own finger in an answering caress, wanting to communicate that this is good, that he wants this, that Ronan can keep touching him.

This private moment is interrupted abruptly by a raucous laugh from the room as King Arthur and his party encounter the Knights who say Ni. Adam has forgotten there was anyone else in the room and looks around anxiously, certain that something this momentous could not be happening without the entire apartment filling up with the heat of it. Thankfully, no one seems to be paying them any notice, and Adam lets himself relax a little, slumping slightly to his left, unconsciously inclining towards Ronan.

The sensation of skin against skin is intoxicating, and Adam finally acknowledges to himself that _yes_ , this is what he’s been wanting. To say it before now would have felt like too big a risk, but how can he deny it when his entire body is lit up from the inside by the sensation of a single finger. Adam wants more.

Careful to move slowly so as not to scare the other boy away, Adam gingerly turns his hand over, opening his palm up to Ronan under the blanket. An invitation. He risks a glance at Ronan’s face, peering up at him from under his brow, knowing that his vulnerability is painted on every feature, unable to stem the tide of honesty now that he has accepted his own need.

Ronan looks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. His eyes are wide, giving him a more youthful appearance; disbelief making him somehow softer. Adam’s lips quirk up at the corners, a tentative smile so Ronan knows he’s not being played with. Ronan exhales in a rush and Adam feels him cautiously begin to explore his palm and trace over the sensitive pads of his fingers.

Both boys are watching the movie now, but neither of them is really seeing it. Noah is cackling as Tim the Enchanter makes a series of pointless explosions, but Adam is lost in sensation. His hand has been transmuted into a surrogate for his body, every touch igniting a different part of him. Ronan trails lightly down the length of Adam’s fingers, and Adam’s legs burn at the touch; Ronan draws circles on Adam’s palm and his stomach tenses in reply; Ronan rubs a thumb over Adam’s wrist and his throat feels the brush; and when Ronan slowly strokes the sensitive web of skin between Adam’s ring and middle fingers, Adam’s cock hardens in response.

Adam feels like a firework and Ronan’s hand is a match, threatening with every brush of skin to set him alight. In a rush Adam laces their fingers together, pressing them palm-to-palm, breathing hard as adrenalin ricochets under his skin. Somehow Adam knows that Ronan understands, knows Adam was being burned up and has to stop. He squeezes Adam’s hand reassuringly and then gently tugs at Adam’s arm, pulling Adam down towards his side; Adam follows in a deliberate swoon, coming to rest against Ronan’s body, his head pillowed on Ronan’s bare chest. Ronan releases Adam’s hand then, draping his right arm protectively over the other boy’s shoulder and readjusts the blanket.

From the other end of the couch, they hear a muffled gasp and both boys turn to see Noah, his hand over his mouth, doing a terrible job of hiding his delight at seeing them tangled together. From Gansey’s bed on their other side comes a reply in the form of a joyful giggle as Blue catches on as well.

“You know, you can all just fuck off,” growls Ronan, unconsciously squeezing Adam closer, then nuzzling the top of Adam’s head with his nose in response to Adam snaking an arm around his waist.

“Alright, quiet down, guys,” comes Gansey’s pragmatic tone, “this is like one of the best parts.”

On screen, King Arthur and his men have come face to face with the vicious Rabbit of Caerbannog, and for the first time all night, Adam feels fully present; the weight of Ronan’s arm around him, the feel of his strong body beneath his own are grounding. For months, actually, Adam has been feeling like he was floating above his life, somehow outside of his own experience; his inability to acknowledge his feelings had created a Ronan shaped hole inside him and it had made him hollow, only able to experience an echo of his own existence. He wonders if this is how Noah feels all the time…insubstantial; an imprecise reflection of himself. Adam shudders at the thought and Ronan pulls him closer.

By the time the questing knights reach the Bridge of Death, Adam and Ronan have come together like puzzle pieces; both laid out on the couch, fitted perfectly together, taking up two thirds of the cushions. Adam wonders if it could really be this easy. Experience has taught him that he has to fight for everything he wants, and most definitely for anything worth having, but here is Ronan, responding to every request of Adam’s body with _yes_.

Adam never wants to move.

Unfortunately for him, however, the movie comes to an end, and the credits are accompanied by a general shuffling about; the stretching of limbs, the gathering of empty popcorn bowls, and unconcealed gawking at he and Ronan. 

Ronan glares at the room, a silent challenge laid out for anyone dumb enough to make it an issue. Adam is grateful. He’s also a bit surprised to notice that none of what he’s feeling is embarrassment. He’s proud of Ronan. And the happiness and relief he’s feeling eclipse any of the baser emotions that might be lingering. Mainly he doesn’t want to be asked questions about whatever this is until he and Ronan can sort it out, because while they’ve been communicating all night, they should probably say actual words to each other.

As if on cue, Ronan turns to face Adam. “Get up. I’ve gotta pee.” Adam wrinkles his nose.

Ronan sits up and the boys untangle themselves, drawing back the comforter and stretching out their kinks. As he stands, Ronan tosses his part of the blanket into Adam’s lap and heads in the direction of the bathroom. Adam can’t help but watch him walk away, his eyes sliding over the muscles of Ronan’s back moving enticingly under his inked skin as he strides confidently across the room.

“Don’t make Parrish get up yet,” Ronan says to no one in particular, “pretty sure he has a boner,” Ronan glances back over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

“Jesus!” Adam exclaims, jumping up and out from under the blanket, eager to prove that he did not, in fact, currently have a boner. This is what Adam had to look forward to.

“Eh, bummer,” Ronan calls out as he reaches the bathroom door, “but we can fix that.”

Adam slaps both hands over his face and groans, but it’s definitely not loud enough to drown out the laughter. _Murder me_ , Adam thinks, but underneath the embarrassment of the moment there is hope, and underneath that, there is love.


	3. Chapter 3

After Ronan returns from the bathroom, he soundlessly grabs Adam’s wrist as he passes him, pulling the other boy into his room and slamming the door. The rest of the party stare after them, silent but for a “Daaaaaang,” coming from Henry Cheng, his tone impressed.

Inside Ronan’s room, Adam and Ronan are finally face to face. No movies to distract them, no blanket covering up their seeking fingers. Ronan relaxes his grip where it had been grasping Adam’s wrist and slides his fingers down to hold Adam’s hand. He drops his gaze to where they are touching, and rubs his thumb back and forth over the other boy’s skin. Adam sighs.

At the sound, Ronan looks up at him, and Adam can see that the beautiful, sharp features of this usually fearless creature are clouded with doubt. The haughty confidence from only moments ago has disappeared only to be replaced with uncertainty as they stand eye to eye, the space between them crowded with questions. 

“C’mere,” says Adam, pulling Ronan gently over to his bed. Adam climbs on first, scooting himself so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, and pulls Ronan toward him, intending to talk, to tell Ronan everything. Ronan moves, but instead of sitting next to him as Adam had expected, he chooses instead to lay his head in Adam’s lap, curling his body alongside Adam’s legs and wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist. Adam is surprised at the unreserved tenderness in Ronan’s bearing; something about it revealing a child-like neediness that belies Ronan’s size and ferocity; his muscled back and violent tattoo seemingly at odds with his current vulnerability. 

Adam lets his hands fall gently onto Ronan’s body, one on the arm wrapped across his waist, the other gently stroking Ronan’s head and bare back. The silence between them is expectant, and Adam knows he’s the one that needs to break it. Looking back he can see how clear Ronan has been; how, in his own rough way, Ronan’s been courting Adam openly. Adam should have known; he should have been more brave; he owes Ronan his bravery now.

“Um,” Adam starts, “so I’m definitely an idiot. I see that now.” Ronan is quiet. “But you already knew that…” Adam trails off. 

He’s caught in a moment that he had not prepared for, and it turns out that confession is not an easy thing to do; even knowing how Ronan feels, Adam finds himself terrified.

“Ronan, I,” Adam starts again, but when he looks down at the boy curled against him, something in Adam breaks. For all of Ronan’s cockiness and thorns, violence and menacing anger, what Adam sees in his lap is a boy who has lost almost everything that matters to him, and who has been raging at the world around him in protest. Adam realizes that for Ronan, caring for something, for some _one_ , is the biggest risk he can take, and yet for Adam, he has risked again and again.

“I love you,” Adam says simply. Because it’s the truth.

Underneath his hands, Ronan, who had not been moving, somehow goes more still. Adam feels himself freeze in response and waits with nervous expectancy for whatever comes next. But instead of angry words or a violent shove, Adam feels a trembling, and realizes with a wrenching in his chest that Ronan Lynch is crying.

The thing that broke in Adam earlier is eclipsed by the sledgehammer-to-the-chest that he’s feeling now. Ronan’s face is buried in Adam’s lap, his arms wrapped tight around Adam’s middle, and he cries. Adam’s confession and gentle hands have landed like a butterfly on a straining dam and broken it all down, and Ronan doesn’t have it in him to hold back the hurt that he’s kept at bay for so long.

He cries for his murdered father, he cries for his dead mother, he cries for the family he lost, the brother who pushes him away, and his friend who died. He cries for the life that was violently taken from him and the things he’ll never get back. He cries and Adam holds him, folds over him, stroking his back and making soothing noises in his ear; rocking the man-sized boy in his arms. Adam loves him, and Ronan is brave.

 

*

 

Eventually Ronan begins to quiet, the muscles in his back relaxing, his grip on Adam’s waist releasing. Silently, Adam extricates himself from Ronan’s grip, and moves to get up from the bed. Ronan does not protest, but at the loss of Adam’s body, he curls in on himself, not looking at Adam, breathing quietly but raggedly into the bed.

Adam goes to Ronan’s desk and switches off the lamp, plunging the room into soothing darkness. Light from a thin moon trickles in through Ronan’s windows, the rain from earlier in the night having moved on, and Adam is able to gingerly pick his way back to the bed where he gently begins to move Ronan’s prone body. The other boy obeys the commands of Adam’s hands without protest, and eventually Adam manages to get him under the covers. 

Once he’s settled, Adam strips down to his boxers and crawls in behind him, mirroring the curve of Ronan’s body and fitting himself against his back. Adam wraps one arm around Ronan’s middle, letting his hand come to rest on the other boy’s bare chest, and uses his other hand to run soothing fingers through his short cropped hair. Adam allows himself to press close, willing his warmth and his heartbeat to soothe the boy in his arms.

Adam kisses Ronan’s shoulder and rests his chin in the crook of his neck, “It’s ok,” he whispers softly, “You’re ok.”

Ronan picks up Adam’s hand where it is resting on his chest, brings it up to his mouth, and kisses his palm before enclosing Adam’s hand in his own and pulling it back to his chest.

Adam keeps watch over Ronan until he falls asleep, and not until he is certain that Ronan is at peace, does Adam allow himself to tumble after.

 

*

 

When Adam wakes, the first thing he notices is that he’s cold; the second thing he notices is that something seems to be missing.

As he orients himself to the fact that he’s in Ronan’s room, the events of the night before come flooding back and he realizes that what’s missing is Ronan. Adam turns and sees that he has moved to the far side of his bed, his back to Adam, hugging the edge of the mattress. Adam moves to curl around him, seeking warmth and closeness.

“I’m not gonna cry anymore, so you can fuck off, Parrish,” comes Ronan’s gruff voice from over his shoulder.

Adam is stung and his hands fly off of Ronan’s body at the bitterness in his voice. The tenderness of their hands, bodies, and confessions of the night before seem like a dream now that they’ve been exposed to the light of day and to Ronan’s angry words.

“What?” comes Adam’s reply, quieter than Adam had intended and with a tone of hurt that he hates himself for.

“You heard me,” says Ronan without turning around, “if you’re awake now you should just go.” And then with a slightly more menacing tone, “And if you say anything about last night I will fucking end you.”

Fuck. Adam should have expected this. Of course Ronan Lynch would want to crush anything that hinted at weakness, and Adam, having comforted him last night, would be a walking reminder of the fact that he’s actually human.

But now that Adam has acknowledged the depth of his affection for Ronan and has felt the sense of wholeness it brings him, he’s not willing to let it slip through his fingers because Ronan can’t deal. This, Adam thinks, is familiar territory; he’s used to having to fight for what he wants.

Adam sits up on the bed, arms lightly hugging his knees, and he turns to face Ronan’s back.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” snarls Ronan, finally turning around, his face a mask of rage. 

In spite of himself, Adam feels a spark of apprehension, but he doesn’t back down.

“No. I’m not leaving.” Adam holds his ground.

“So, what? Does watching me cry make you feel better about your shitty life? Your piece of shit car and your ass hole trailer park parents?”

Adam is stunned. He looks at Ronan with naked amazement splashed across his face, the hurt so acute that he almost doesn’t feel it at first, like a needle that’s so sharp you hardly notice it piercing you until it reaches your heart.

Adam’s injury is reflected in the horror in Ronan’s face. 

“Jesus, fuck, Adam…” Ronan implores, self-hatred for what he’s just done evident in every syllable.

Adam just stares at Ronan, letting the other boy see him fully, forcing Ronan to confront the damage that his angry fear has created, and, in a near whisper that feels louder than bombs, “Fuck you, Ronan.” Ronan’s body jolts back at Adam’s words, their quiet weight slamming into his chest.

Adam moves to get off the bed. He is beyond certain that Ronan’s cruelty is his knee-jerk reaction to his own shame, but it doesn’t mean that Adam has to sit here and be a punching bag. Never again.

“Adam, please…” Ronan reaches out, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder to stop him.

“Don’t,” Adam says, his voice quiet but powerful. Ronan releases him.

Without another word, Adam gets up and starts collecting his things. He’s moving slow, all the fight punched out of him, a numb buzzing settling over his limbs as he pulls his shirt on and turns to leave without bothering to finish getting dressed.

As he reaches the door, he hears Ronan call out to him.

“Adam…” Adam pauses with his hand on the doorknob; and then without looking at the other boy, he walks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, this was awful to write. I hadn't intended it to go here initially, but then it did, so I just followed. I promise to make things better!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the last chapter felt risky, and this one might just torpedo this whole fic. Probably getting too OOC for some readers, so feel free to skip the rest.
> 
> This is my third fic (ever) and I didn't go into it with a real plan. Anyway, please forgive my fumbling attempts as a new contributor to fan fiction as a whole, and to the Raven Cycle in particular.

When the door shuts behind Adam, Ronan throws himself backwards onto his bed, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes as the enormity of what he’s done settles over him.

 _Fuck_!

Ronan can’t remember the last time he cried. The shame he felt at having broken down in Adam’s lap had been overwhelming. He had been certain that Adam wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , still love him in the daylight; who could love such a broken thing? 

Well, maybe another broken thing. 

It occurs now to Ronan that whatever he may have lost, he at least _had_ something to lose. Adam grew up in a loveless home; too often alone. The touches he experienced had been unpredictable and violent, and he had navigated his life alone. No guidance, no encouragement, made to feel like a nuisance just for existing. And amazingly this boy found it in him to be tender, to trust, to be brave enough to love a villain like Ronan, and Ronan had just shattered it all. In two seconds he had managed to decimate the thing he has wanted most and he feels _sick_.

He needs to make this better. He _has_ to make this better.

 

*

 

When Adam gets back to his apartment, (his _shitty_ apartment, he thinks to himself) he can’t stand still. He’s pacing in circles like a trapped animal, hands fisted in his hair.

What the fuck just _happened_? 

He knew it was a risk to love such a wild thing. He was under no illusion that Ronan would ever be anything but Ronan, but he hadn’t expected to get eviscerated; to have the object of his affection go so directly to the heart of his own insecurity and squeeze.

Adam could see the remorse in Ronan’s face the moment the words escaped his lips, and he knew that Ronan had purposefully shot to kill; had meant to push away from himself the frightening boy that had cracked the protective armor he’d relied on to keep himself safe for so long, but _Jesus_ it hurt.

But maybe that’s what it had to be right now…loving the boy means loving the beast within. Adam has a thick skin; shit, he can handle Ronan on his worst days; days when most people cower at his roaring, Adam can still see the kitten inside. But he also couldn’t abide being Ronan’s verbal punching bag every time he got too close.

God, he so nearly has the thing he wants most. He needs to talk to Ronan. They can’t leave it like this, whatever the outcome. But right now he just needs to go back to sleep; needs to be out of his own head for just a little bit, and when he wakes up he’ll figure out what to do.

 

*

 

When Adam wakes up, he can see that it’s nearly twilight…he’d been asleep for hours. Damn it, this was going to screw up his sleep schedule. He has the vague impression that something _woke_ him up, but he’s not sure what. A bang? Maybe thunder?

And then through his window, which is cracked to let in the cool October air, Adam hears it…music; soft guitar drifting up from somewhere outside.

_Serve God, love me, and mend_  
This is not the end  
Live unbruised, we are friends  
And I’m sorry  
I’m sorry 

Adam gets up, rumpled and disoriented from day-time sleep, and heads to his window to check it out, stretching his aching limbs as he goes. 

_Sigh no more, no more_  
One foot in sea, one on shore  
My heart was never pure  
You know me  
You know me 

Adam pushes open the window and leans out, and oh my god it’s _Ronan_.

_Oh, man is a giddy thing  
Oh, man is a giddy thing._

Ronan is standing next to his BMW with an old fashioned boom box held above his head, blaring music at an impossible volume at Adam’s window.

_Love, it will not betray you_  
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free  
Be more like the man you were made to be 

Holy shit. Adam is speechless. Maura had made them all watch Say Anything on the movie night before this one. Ronan had called John Cusack’s character a nob, but apparently he’d taken notes.

_There is a design, an alignment to cry_  
Of my heart to see,  
The beauty of love as it was made to be 

As Adam takes in more of the scene he sees that Ronan is wearing a _tie_. Ronan hates ties; he only wears them to go to church with Matthew.

_Love, it will not betray you_  
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free  
Be more like the man you were made to be 

Ronan lifts the boom box up higher.

_There is a design, an alignment to cry_  
Of my heart to see,  
The beauty of love as it was made to be 

Adam slaps a hand over his face. Is this really happening?

_Love, it will not betray you_  
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free  
Be more like the man you were made to be 

Adam can feel his ears getting hot. This is ridiculous…ridiculously _embarrassing_ , but his insides are doing that flip-flopping thing again.

_There is a design, an alignment to cry_  
Of my heart to see,  
The beauty of love as it was made to be 

As the song ends, Ronan lowers the boom box and looks up at Adam expectantly. Waiting for whatever verdict is disposed.

“Ugh,” Adam grunts, “Come up here, you idiot.”

The stupid smile on Ronan’s face puts the sun to shame. Adam retreats back into his apartment and does his best to straighten out his rumpled appearance as he hears footsteps bounding up the stairs. There’s a pause and then a restrained knock.

Adam goes to the door and hesitates, taking a deep breathe before he opens it up. When he does he’s greeted by a cautious Ronan; dressed in his Sunday best and holding three impossibly blue roses down at his side. 

The two boys stare at each other, each searching for something in the other’s face. Adam isn’t sure he’s ever seen Ronan so hesitant, so…respectful. He reaches out and picks up Ronan’s tie, twisting it in his fingers and looking at him with questioning eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” Ronan shrugs, “this felt… important, so…” he trails off, smoothing his tie back down after Adam lets it go and then rubbing his hand on the back of his head. Ronan Lynch is nervous.

“Well, you should probably come in,” Adam says, stepping back and allowing Ronan to walk past him.

“Uh, these are for you, I guess,” Ronan says, thrusting the flowers in Adam’s general direction.

Adam reaches out awkwardly, “I don’t have a vase in my _shitty_ apartment,” Adam says meaningfully, looking askance at Ronan as he takes the flowers.

Ronan bows his head, ashamed. 

“Fuck, Adam, I’m so sorry…” Ronan looks up at him tentatively from under his brow, but Adam doesn’t look back. He’s frowning at the roses in his hand, noticing that all of the thorns have been removed. When he finally looks over at Ronan he sees that the same can be said of him; hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet.

“Yeah, I heard,” Adam finally replies, his head tilting to indicate the window through which he’d just watched Ronan do the most un-Ronan-like thing he could think of.

Ronan huffs a small laugh, “Yeah, well, go big or go home, right?”

Adam takes a deep breathe, squaring his shoulders, “What you said…”

“I know,” Ronan interrupts; and then he’s rambling, his face a portrait of contrition, “It was so fucked up. I don’t even know why I said it. I didn’t mean it. I just…”

“I know.” Adam says calmly, turned fully towards Ronan now.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Adam says quietly, looking down at the flowers in his hand. “But it was still fucked up,” he says, looking at Ronan with a grave expression on his face, “Don’t do it again.”

“Jesus, Adam, _no_.” In two strides Ronan is in front of Adam, reaching his hand toward the other boy’s face, keeping his movements slow to give Adam plenty of time to tell him to stop, that this isn’t allowed yet. Adam doesn’t.

Ronan’s hand comes to rest on Adam’s jaw, his fingers splayed down the side of his neck, his thumb stroking a line across Adam’s cheek. Tentatively, he brings their foreheads together.

“Quam valde diligo, semper custodiam,” Ronan whispers in the private space between their mouths.

_Whom I love and cherish, I will protect forever._

Adam let’s his eyes close and brings his hand up to cover Ronan’s where it still rests against the side of his face. He allows himself a deep breath.

“You looked like an idiot out there, by the way,” Adam’s mouth quirks into a small smile, breaking the painful tension just a enough. 

Ronan smiles openly and pulls Adam into a crushing hug, his arms wrapped around Adam’s shoulders, Adam’s head beneath his chin, resting on his chest.

“Good,” say says, kissing the top of Adam’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to the Mumford and Sons song that Ronan plays:
> 
>  
> 
> [Link text](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeBtrks1k4E)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the off chance that anyone's been wanting to know what happens, I apologize that this has taken so long! More to come shortly (ish). F-ing life and responsibilities have gotten in the way of my Pynch obsession. I think I need to rearrange my priorities ;)

If the heat between their hands under the blanket at Monmouth was a solder bringing them together, everything that has come after it has been a _welding_. More than a superficial bond of hot fingers and wanting, their base metals have come together under the punishing heat of tears, and hurt, and fierce honesty.

When they finally pull apart, there is a solemnity between the boys; their metals cooling, bound to one another in a way that wouldn’t have felt possible 24-hours ago.

Ronan takes Adam’s face back into his hands, looking the other boy in the eye and softly smoothing his thumbs over Adam’s cheeks, extra gentle in his need to communicate that he is safe for Adam to be around; that he knows he has claws but they will never again be used to wound.

As they continue to look at one another, the energy between them shifts tangibly, the friction of their gaze acting like tinder. Adam can see that Ronan is hesitating, not sure if he’s allowed to ask more of Adam tonight, but there is a hunger in his eyes that Adam feels reflected in his own body. The tension that began under the grey comforter has been magnified by the emotional gauntlet they’ve put each other through, and Adam can feel it threatening to bubble over.

Without letting his eyes leave Ronan’s, Adam reaches out to place the flowers on his desk and then lets his hands settle tentatively on Ronan’s hips. For a moment in time they are a frozen slow dance, gazing at one another with eyes wide and lips slightly parted. 

Ronan is the first to move, bending down slowly to give Adam time to pull away. He doesn’t. Ronan brings his mouth close, almost touching. They’re breathing each other’s air… so very close. Ronan’s eyes flutter shut, and Adam can hear him swallow in anticipation. Adam can’t help but feel a thrill rush through his body and wonders for a moment if this is the way a lion tamer feels when he’s a breath away from the lion’s mouth. 

Ronan has brought them to the brink of a kiss but Adam knows he will wait eons for Adam to complete it if that’s what he requires. He doesn’t. Adam takes a breath, and then let’s the gravity of Ronan pull him forward, pressing their lips together. At the contact, Ronan makes a soft sound in his throat and Adam can feel his own hands involuntarily react, gripping Ronan’s hips a little tighter. 

Their lips are tentative at first, soft and undemanding. Adam is surprised at Ronan’s gentleness, but as the heat rises, both boys become more insistent. Adam pulls handfuls of fabric into his clenching fists at Ronan’s hips; Ronan moves one of his hands to the back of Adam’s head, letting the other slip down to ghost over Adam’s throat, their heads turning to better fit their mouths together, pressing harder. 

When Adam pulls back slightly, Ronan attempts to chase his lips, but before they can come together again, Adam licks at Ronan’s bottom lip and Ronan’s mouth opens in response. Their tongues meet for the first time and both boys shudder, a harmony of moans escaping their throats. Adam wraps his arms around Ronan’s low back, pulling their bodies flush. Ronan’s hand fists in Adam’s hair, his other tightening every so slightly over Adam’s throat, claiming. Adam is finally inside the mouth of the lion and he wants nothing more than to be consumed.

They have begun to unravel into a tangle of wet lips and seeking tongues when Adam pulls back to catch his breathe. He sees the feral look in Ronan’s eyes replaced quickly by concern as he searches Adam’s face for the answer to what he might have done wrong.

“I’m good,” Adam says, shaking his head, recognizing the anxiety in Ronan’s expression. “Let’s just…slow down for a minute, ok?”

Ronan visibly relaxes, “Yeah, ok.” 

And they just breathe, foreheads pressed together, arms gently around one another, letting the moment wash over them…their first kiss.

Suddenly, Ronan pulls back, landing a quick peck on Adam’s forehead, a playfully devious smile on his lips, “Hold on,” he says, moving with a skip towards Adam’s door. 

Adam looks after him, his hands frozen in mid-air, holding the ghost of Ronan’s body. His eyebrows turn dubious as he watches Ronan lean out into the hallway, his head and shoulders disappearing around the doorframe.

Adam turns toward Ronan’s back and puts his hand on his hips, “You’re not doing another song thing, are you? I’m not sure I can take it,” Adam calls after him, the smile evident in his tone.

“Hey, screw you, Parrish. That was fucking charming,” says Ronan, his voice floating back to Adam over the sounds of muffled thumps and scraping as he grabs whatever he left hidden in the hallway.

When Ronan turns around, he is greeted by a suspicious looking Adam, his mouth quirked into an amused smirk. Adam’s eyes meet Ronan’s for a fraction of a second before being inexorably drawn to the contents of his arms.

“Ronan Lynch, you _sap_ ,” Adam says with a smile, his hands smacking over his face in disbelief, and then running up and over his forehead where they fist into his hair.

Held carefully in his arms, Ronan is clutching the grey comforter from the night before, along with a laptop and power cord. 

“What?” Ronan balks, his face a mask of feigned surprise, and maybe just a little bit of apprehension.

“I shoulda known you were the sentimental type,” Adam drawls, his voice warm, walking over to Ronan wearing a satisfied grin and putting his hands on the comforter as if to take it. He pauses as he looks down at his hands and runs them over the material, the smirk slipping off his features as he remembers the feeling of their hands meeting under the material only the night before. 

He turns his face up to Ronan, “I like it,” Adam says earnestly, leaning up and letting their lips graze each other softly in a tentative second kiss.

Ronan goes soft and still, his lips gentle against Adam’s mouth. When they lean away from each other he smiles quietly and then shakes it of, draping himself in a shadow of his usual bravado, knowing Adam can see right through him.

“Whatever,” he shrugs, “I just grabbed the first blanket I saw.”

They both know it’s a lie.

“Oh, ok,” Adam allows; his eyes teasing playfully. Ronan’s lips quirk into a reluctant smile and his ears go a little red.

“Anyway,” Ronan huffs out, moving around Adam toward the bed, “I figured we could maybe watch that Python movie again. I don’t remember shit.”

Adam watches fondly as Ronan sets up the laptop on his makeshift bedside table, draping the power cord carefully, and unfurling the blanket. He can’t help but feel a little surprised, though…of all the movies out there, why watch the same one? Granted, _The Holy Grail_ has its fair share of death and explosions, but not in the way that Ronan typically appreciates his violence. 

Adam continues his musing as Ronan finishes setting up the laptop and laying out the blanket, preparing to ask after this seemingly bizarre reprise of Gansey’s Movie Night pick, but when Ronan turns to look over his shoulder at Adam, the look on his face pushes all of the pieces together. Ronan’s expression is shy, hopeful, with a hint of pleading. Ronan is asking for another chance, a do-over; to start back under the blanket before everything got shitty and painful. Adam sighs affectionately and bows his head.

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

Ronan rewards him with another glowing smile.

“Ok, cool,” says Ronan, relief coming off of him in waves. “Any chance I could borrow something so I can change out of this monkey suit?” Ronan asks, his hand flipping his tie disdainfully.

“What, you don’t have a change of clothes hiding in the hallway?” Adam teases.

“Nope,” Ronan grins, the devious smile returning, “but I do have snacks.”

“You’re shittin’ me!” Adam balks as Ronan jogs back to the apartment door, snaking his hand out into the hallway and producing a convenience store bag brimming with junk food.

“Like I said, Parrish, go big, or go home.”


	6. Chapter 6

After Ronan changes into an extra pair of Adam’s sweats and a t-shirt, the clothes clinging alluringly in a way that they never seemed to for Adam, the boys find themselves looking down at Adam’s bed, both wondering how to best arrange themselves; neither entirely confident in how to proceed. They’d cuddled on the couch the night before, slept in the same bed, had their first fight, their first make-up, and their first kiss. But _this_ is the first time they’re being deliberate about their closeness, and it feels significant.

“So…” Adam begins, trailing off into silence, their breathing the only sound in the room apart from the comforting patter of the rain that’s resumed outside, filtering in from the still cracked window. But Ronan, having finally decided that he’s run out of fucks to give, huffs with exasperation and crawls onto the bed, pushing the comforter out of the way.

“I call big spoon,” he says, lying on his side, furthest from the laptop. “C’mere,” Ronan jerks his chin in a beckoning gesture.

Adam, grateful to have this choice made for him, crawls after, positioning himself in front of Ronan, careful to keep a few inches between them, still unsure of this new familiarity and what the boundaries might be.

Once he is situated, Ronan pulls the grey comforter over them, then snakes an arm around Adam’s middle, pulling him roughly into his chest and letting his hand settle over Adam’s stomach. 

Ok, so no boundaries, apparently. 

Adam feels warm. Ronan’s firm body is molded to the back of his own; every bend and curve mirrored by the other boy’s position. He’s keenly aware that his ass is nestled into Ronan’s groin and can’t help a slight tremble when he feels a subtle twitch where he knows Ronan’s soft cock is pressed against him, only two thin layers of fabric between their skin. Adam feels his own dick give an answering twitch, and he finds that he’s grateful he’s the little spoon in this arrangement. If it was Ronan’s ass pressed against _him_ , he knows he would already be embarrassingly hard.

In an attempt to get his mind off the topic of cocks pressed into asses, Adam reaches out to click play, and then eases back into the heat of Ronan’s body, exhaling contentedly. He allows his hand to move atop Ronan’s, gently brushing his fingertips over the other boy’s splayed hand, mimicking the hidden caresses of last night. If this is going to be a do-over, Adam wants to do it right. He can feel Ronan’s body relax behind him.

On the laptop, the movie begins and Adam watches the memorable opening scenes unfold. Fairly quickly, however, the movie begins to become unfamiliar. Adam feels like he’s having a Twilight Zone moment. It’s definitely Monty Python, it’s definitely King Arthur, and yet it’s somehow _new_ even though they watched it last night?

“Is this the same movie?” he asks, knowing it’s a dumb question but thinking that maybe Ronan somehow grabbed the wrong DVD. Was this an extended edition with new scenes? A Director’s cut?

“Yup. Apparently you don’t remember shit either,” and then, under his breath, “and you said I wasn’t distracting.”

Adam can’t help his smile, “Ok, yes, you distract me,” Adam admits, feigning exasperation.

“Damn straight,” quips Ronan, bending his head down to nip at Adam’s ear, then planting a string of light kisses along his neck until he reaches the curve where Adam’s neck meets his shoulder. When he arrives there, Ronan can’t help but open his mouth to lick and gently bite the sensitive skin, eliciting a soft moan from Adam.

“Ronan,” comes Adam’s voice, his tone pleading, with an edge of rebuke.

“Sorry,” Ronan replies, admonished but still playful. “I’ll behave.” He drops a chaste kiss on Adam’s cheek and then resettles behind him.

Adam hums contentedly. He’s not entirely sure why he stopped Ronan’s attentions; his mouth felt incredible. His body is buzzing at the touch but his rational mind keeps telling him to slow down, to be cautious. He knows there’s also some fear there. This is, after all, his first experience with a guy. God, it feels good, but what if he does something wrong? Now that he finds himself in this unimaginable moment, he can’t help being afraid that he’ll do something stupid and Ronan will realize that he’s been wrong about him this whole time, that Adam is not worthy of his affection. 

But the heat Ronan’s mouth has awakened in him won’t let him settle into the movie again. Adam can hardly help himself when he gently presses his hips back into Ronan, letting his ass rub over Ronan’s dick. Ronan breathes in sharply and his arm tightens around Adam’s body, his face pressing back into the space between Adam’s neck and shoulder.

Adam does it again and Ronan moves his hand from Adam’s stomach to his hip, pulling Adam more firmly against him and pressing himself roughly forward. He does this once, and then pushes himself back from Adam’s hips.

“Fuck,” he growls, “not fair, Parrish.”

Adam can hear Ronan’s labored breathing.

“If you want to just watch the movie, that’s fine,” Ronan continues, his tone frustrated, “but don’t tell me to behave and then do shit like that.” And then more quietly, “Just laying here next to you is driving me crazy enough.”

Adam rolls to his back and pulls Ronan’s head to his own, touching their foreheads together, “Sorry. You’re right. I can behave too. I swear I’m not trying to be a tease; I’m just trying to figure this all out. I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Adam confesses, “and I’m just…I don’t know,” he trails off lamely.

Ronan huffs into the space where their faces are so close.

“I know. It’s ok,” he kisses Adam’s nose. “Just don’t wiggle your ass unless you mean it.” He says this last with a smile on his face. 

Adam can feel himself relax, not realizing that he had become so tense. He knows he _wants_ Ronan, he’s just not sure he’s ready. His mind and body need to get on the same page so he doesn’t drive them both insane.

“Ok,” Adam agrees, kissing Ronan once on the lips before turning back around, determined to watch the movie. Ronan wraps himself back around Adam, the notable difference being that his pelvis is not quite as close as before. _That’s fair_ , thinks Adam.

“Hey,” Ronan nudges his chin into Adam’s shoulder. “If we’re doing the movie thing, pass me the Red Vines.”

Adam smiles to himself. Ronan is patient with him without question, without strings. Adam can feel his heart swell. He reaches into the bag of convenience store junk food, fishing around for the package of Red Vines, and is surprised to notice that all of his favorites are there: Gummy Worms (not bears), Pretzel M&M’s (not peanut), Reese’s everything, and even a Toblerone, the fancy candy bar he’d only tasted once and has put in the column titled “Someday” along with everything else he hopes to one day afford. He’s got no idea how Ronan knows all of this; Adam can’t remember ever eating much candy around any of his friends. He always considered it a frivolous luxury.

He takes a deep breath and turns to Ronan, holding out the Red Vines, staring at him, though gazing might be a more appropriate word. The enormity of all that Ronan’s done in his grand apology comes rushing together all at once; the song, the tie, the thornless roses, the comforter (which he’s beginning to think of as “their” comforter), the do-over movie, his patience at letting Adam set the pace, and now this. He can feel his insides going gooey while simultaneously feeling like they’re being pulled in myriad directions; an image of a taffy machine pops fleetingly into his head.

“What?” Ronan asks, his eyes darting to the side, perplexed at Adam’s sudden rapt attention.

“You’re just…” _amazing_ , Adam thinks. “I’m just…” _crazy about you_ , Adam muses.

“We’re just…” Ronan suggests tentatively, clearly confused.

And all of a sudden Adam’s mind and body are in fierce agreement, and Adam dives at Ronan’s mouth, desperate to show him the depth of his affection, needing Ronan to know that he feels _seen_ , and that Adam sees him back.

The Red Vines fall forgotten somewhere behind Ronan as Adam grasps the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Ronan, clearly surprised, recovers quickly, opening his mouth to allow Adam in, matching him kiss for kiss. 

He pulls away briefly, “Are you sure?” His face is hopeful, his lust is evident, but he’s ready to pull back if Adam hesitates.

Adam nods, his eyes hungry.

It’s all that Ronan needs. He rolls to his back and pulls Adam on top of him, allowing himself to be at the mercy of Adam’s sudden appetite, enjoying the feeling of being _wanted_ in this way, wanted by _Adam_ in this way. 

Adam hovers over Ronan on his elbows and knees, moving his hands to cradle Ronan’s head and neck. He feels as though he’s been unleashed for the first time in his life. He’s safe. He’s free. He’s experiencing, once again, the feeling of being powerfully present and grounded, and there’s nothing holding him back from having _this_.

Their kisses become more urgent, and Adam can feel Ronan’s hands everywhere; caressing his neck, pushing up under his t-shirt, rubbing over his thighs where they are bracketed around his middle. Adam breaks away from Ronan’s mouth and moves down to his neck, spreading wet open-mouthed kisses up to his ear. 

Ronan can feel Adam’s hot breath as he bites at his soft earlobe then licks the sensitive spot just behind it. Adam’s labored breathing is amplified by the proximity of his mouth to Ronan’s ear, the urgency of it going right to Ronan’s cock like a squeeze. He can feel himself hard inside Adam’s borrowed sweats and something about the impossibility of that makes him even harder.

His hands have been moving over Adam’s body, but the need for friction rushes up in him. He grabs Adam’s hips where they’re hovering over him and pulls down. He groans as he feels Adam hard against him and it’s like throwing kerosene on a forest fire; the heat suddenly out of control.

Adam cries out, the shock of Ronan’s erection pressing into his own pulses through his entire body. Ronan growls beneath him and suddenly they’re not kissing anymore; Adam’s face is pressed into the space between Ronan’s neck and shoulder, his mouth open and wet; Ronan is biting into Adam’s shoulder, and they are pushing against each other, rubbing together. The noises spilling out of them are filthy and raw.

Once again, Adam feels like a firecracker, but the flame that is Ronan is all consuming. He can feel himself ready to come apart.

“Fuck. Ronan. I’m gonna…” Adam can feel himself slipping away, his ability to maintain a rhythm faltering.

Ronan moves one arm down around Adam’s low back, bracing him; increasing the pressure as he continues to thrust himself upwards. With his other hand he finds Adam’s hand and laces their fingers together.

“Cum. Oh, god, I wanna feel you cum,” Ronan breathes.

At his words Adam feels himself snap, and he’s coming apart, cumming in his sweats, his body electric. He groans because he has no choice, the sensation is impossible to keep contained inside him. He can feel his cock pulsing again, and again against Ronan as he rides the waves of pleasure. Then he feels Ronan let go of his hand, his arms crushing around him, a cry cutting off abruptly in Ronan’s throat as his body jerks underneath him. 

“Christ. Ronan,” Adam groans, feeling himself coming down from the peak of euphoria just enough to regain some of his senses and look down at the wrecked boy beneath him, Ronan’s face frozen in open-mouthed rapture as he continues to come apart, Adam still rhythmically sliding against him, milking every sensation out of Ronan’s spurting cock.

Their movements begin to slow and eventually they both still; Adam draped over Ronan’s prone body, both boys breathing into each other’s necks, arms wrapped loosely around one another, all urgency gone.

Adam rolls off of Ronan and they lay side-by-side, staring, unseeing, up at Adam’s slanted ceiling, breathing beginning to return to normal until the stillness of the moment is interrupted by Ronan fidgeting beside him. Adam turns to see Ronan extract a crushed Red Vines box from underneath his back.

“Jesus, Parrish, is ‘Red Vines’ like some code word to your libido?” Ronan asks, still sounding breathless.

Adam groans, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“No, it’s ok if it is,” Ronan continues, propped up on an elbow and looking down at Adam who is now covering his face. “I just wanna know if I should buy stock in the company before I order a few truck loads.”

Adam is smiling through his fingers.

“How did you _know_?” Adam finally says when he’s managed to pull himself together.

“What, your secret ‘go’ phrase? Just luck, I guess.” 

“No, about the candy, the snacks…” Adam trails off meaningfully, but Ronan is clearly not following. “They’re all my favorites. How did you know?”

Ronan cocks his head slightly, uncertain what Adam is on about.

“You’re not as big a mystery as you might think, Parrish. I see you.”

The words send a faint thrill through Adam’s middle, but he continues to look at Ronan, waiting for more explanation.

“I don’t know!” Ronan barks, hands thrown in the air in exasperation. “If something matters to me I pay attention, I guess.”

Adam laughs delightedly. But his insides are now singing. He _matters_ to Ronan Lynch, and somehow that’s better than any lover’s confession he could imagine. Adam’s not sure he’s ever really mattered to anyone.

Now it’s Ronan’s turn to look embarrassed.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters grumpily. Then in a valiant effort at changing the subject, “We missed the fucking movie again.”

Adam turns to the laptop to see Arthur and his knights doing something else that only looks vaguely familiar. 

“Well, we can just watch it again tomorrow night,” Adam says with a grin, reaching for Ronan and kissing him again, a lazy brushing of lips known only known to the truly satisfied.

“And hey,” Adam continues, his face more serious. “You matter to me too.”

Adam feels like this is a minor confession; something that should be obvious especially on the heels of his pronouncement of love from the night before, but Ronan goes weak at the words, hiding his face in the crook of Adam’s neck and kissing him gently against his clavicle. Adam hums contentedly and strokes the back of Ronan’s head.

“Sorry I jizzed in your sweats,” Ronan mumbles, his voice muffled against Adam’s throat.

Adam snorts, the remnants of romance evaporating at the reality of their filthy pajamas.

“Yeah, I kinda want to shower, actually” Adam confesses, realizing that he hasn’t bathed all day.

“Ok. Mind if I take a minute in there first? I showered before I came over, but I should probably wipe myself off.”

Adam nods and both boys begin untangling themselves from the grey comforter and each other. Ronan heads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself, and Adam is left staring after him. 

Holy shit.

The past 24-hours have been a whirlwind. It was only last night that Adam and Ronan had held hands for the first time and now he’s sitting on his bed in cum-sodden sweats. Adam can feel himself starting to have an out of body experience. What if this is all some wildly vivid dream? He dismisses the thought almost immediately, doubting that he would feel this sticky even in the most intense dream scenario, but what about a hallucination? He wonders how real those might feel. 

Adam is pulled out of his reveries when a now-shirtless Ronan emerges from the bathroom. His heart skips a beat. No way this is anything but real…Adam knows he doesn’t have the kind of imagination it would take to dream up someone like Ronan Lynch. Maybe this was the result of a lifetime of unanswered birthday wishes, blowing out matches in secret and pretending they were birthday candles on the cakes his mother never made. He may never know why, but maybe the “why” didn’t really matter.

As he watches Ronan crossing the room, it occurs to Adam that only moments ago he was _on top of that_ and he can’t help but swoon a little. His eyes slide over Ronan’s body, admiring how his pelvic muscles form an inviting “v” that disappears below the elastic of the waistband. Adam can feel his dick twitch again and his cheeks begin to flush. Ronan, who is balling up the borrowed t-shirt and tossing it into Adam’s plastic hamper, doesn’t notice. Adam is grateful.

“It’s all yours,” Ronan announces, reaching his hand out to Adam in offering.

Adam allows himself to be pulled to his feet but continues to hold Ronan’s hand once he’s standing. They are face to face again and Adam knows he’s staring. He reaches tentatively towards Ronan, brushing a thumb gently along his jaw, feeling his chest swell as he looks at the breathtaking boy in front of him, breathing out a sigh at the sight of Ronan’s eyes fluttering shut and inclining his head into the touch.

“Ok,” Adam finally says, forcing himself to drop his hand from Ronan’s face and move towards the bathroom.

“Hey,” Ronan says, tugging on the other hand that he’s still holding. He pulls Adam toward himself, gently cradling the side of his face and bringing their lips together. This kiss feels different. More grounded, somehow. It’s not a first kiss, or an apology kiss, a kiss in the heat of the moment, or even a kiss in the afterglow. This kiss feels like a promise, like a seal emblazoned with their initials pressing into melted wax. 

When they pull apart they are both a little shy.

Adam drops his head and looks up at Ronan from under his eyelashes.

“Ungh,” Ronan grunts out. “You’re killin’ me, Parrish. Go shower,” he pushes Adam away playfully, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. 

Adam can’t help but huff out a laugh as he turns toward the bathroom. As he walks away he can feel Ronan watching him and finds himself wondering what he looks like through Ronan’s eyes. Compared to Ronan’s pale statuesque figure, made strong through boxing and always having enough to eat, Adam feels malnourished, dirty and brown from hard labor. When he reaches the door, however, he turns to catch Ronan’s eye and finds no such judgments in Ronan’s expression. His face is soft, his eyes dreamy. Adam feels like he’s caught Ronan in a private moment of naked adoration and he thrills at the reality that it is directed at him.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Adam gives an awkward wave as he’s closing the bathroom door and immediately feels like an idiot. A wave? Really? 

But right before the door shuts, he hears Ronan let out a soft laugh followed by, “ _God_ , so cute.”

Inside, Adam puts his palm against the now closed door and smiles to himself. This is good. They are good. He’s in love and he matters to Ronan Lynch. That’s something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be the end, but I have a few other ideas for a better way to wrap this up, I think. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Happy Halloween! :)


End file.
